


You Want the Moon?

by the_most_beautiful_broom



Series: Tumblr Prompts [9]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dorms, Established Relationship, F/M, Shenanigans, old movie references for the win
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 20:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14701746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_most_beautiful_broom/pseuds/the_most_beautiful_broom





	You Want the Moon?

“You can’t be here!” Raven whispers, surprised, even as she closes the door to her dorm room after Zeke. “How did you even get into the building; it’s 3 hours after visitation is over?”

She looks down the hall, just to be sure nobody saw them, but then she feels his hands on her hips, pulling her back into the room, and he does make a terribly convincing point against staying out in the hallway when his lips ghost across her neck.

Hiding a smile. Raven lets herself be pulled back in and pressed against the inside of her door. When her boyfriend refuses to lift his head from the spot where her neck meets her jawline, she pushes at his shoulder reluctantly.

“Zeke, I’m serious, you’re not supposed to be here,” she says, her voice less convincing because her breath is catching under his attention.

“Nice to meet you, serious,” he mutters, kissing a path across her neck, then up her cheek, “My name’s Zeke.”

She giggles, a sound she never would’ve thought herself capable of three months ago, but here she is. Or rather, here Zeke is, and here she is, giggling.

“That’s so bad,” she mumbles, “Like, so many different levels of awful. And to think you think you’re clever.”

“Must be some sort of smart,” he says in a low voice, before pulling back to look at her. His arms are comfortably settled around her waist and hers are woven into the belt loops of his pants, which he seems pretty smug about. He leans forwards, his nose bumping hers. “I got this Comp Sci prodigy to go out with me.”

Raven rolls her eyes, still not used to the flattery. “She’s a cheap date,” she mutters, self-deprecatingly.

“She shouldn’t be.” Zeke’s fingers spread on her hips, easing under the fabric of her tshirt and rubbing soothing circles there. Raven leans into his touch approvingly, her head falling back against the door.

“And why’s that?” she asks absently.

Zeke shrugs, but his eyes are anything but casual. “You could get away with a lot, you know.”

She lifts her chin, curious. “Define a lot.”

Zeke rolls his eyes, but he humors her. “You ever see  _It’s a Wonderful life_?”

“The Christmas movie?” Raven wrinkles her nose. “Not one for Jimmy Stewart. Or the holidays, for that matter.”

“Pragmatist,” Zeke teases, but then he sobers, his head cocking to the side thoughtfully. “There’s this line though…”

Raven arches an eyebrow at him, and when he sees that she’s not really listening, he closes the distance between them. He kisses like he talks, deliberate and heavy, and she’s leaning into him, savoring the slide of his lips over hers. When he pulls back, she knows her eyes are hooded, and she licks her lips reflexively.

Zeke is just watching her, and when he leans forward this time, it’s to press his forehead against hers. He stays there, eyes looking into hers, not touching her any more than the gentle press of his fingers against her hips and his breath chasing after hers.

“You want the moon, Raven?” he asks, at length, and she knows he’s quoting some dumb movie but damn, she can see it in his eyes, that he means it, and he’s offering it to her. “Just say the word; I’ll throw a lasso around it and pull it down.”

She hears his words in her heart, in her toes, in every part of her body, and she shivers. Because the way he’s looking at her, it’s like he’d do it. Like he’d do anything, melt the moon into a chalice and offer it to her, press it into ink and trace it over her skin. Carry it on his back across a mountain range, sink it into the ocean and ferry her across its expanse on it. Anything and everything, for her.  

“I…” she breaks off, looking down sheepishly, “I don’t have words of a playwright for you.”

“Like I care about that,” he mutters, and she knows he doesn’t. But still, he always knows what to say, and she’s stuck wondering why she can hack the Pentagon with the laptop by her pillow, but she can’t talk to him the way he does to her.

“I know,” she says, and when she looks at him, she knows that he sees what she’s thinking. And, because it’s the least she can do, she tries. “But, I don’t want the moon.”

A smile ghosts around his mouth, and she’s ridiculously proud of that. She put that there, made him proud, made him enamored, made him hers. “The sun, then?” he prompts.

“Not that,” she shakes her head, her hands trailing up from his waist to settle on his chest.

“A constellation? Orion, maybe, or the Pleiades?”

“They sure are pretty,” she whispers, “but leave them for the gods.”

Zeke’s eyes are dark and his voice is low. “Not the moon, not the stars, not the sun…”

“No,” she tilts her head back, holding his eyes as she taps his chest lightly. “See, the galaxy is here. Centuries of moondust, and stars exploding, planets colliding and imploding; it’s all in the blood that runs here. Why would I want a celestial, when you’re here.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just stays a breath in front of her, eyes boring into her. Then he lifts his head, presses a kiss to her forehead. He hold himself there for a while, before he runs a hand through her hair, brushing it away from her face, his eyes soft and his voice even more so. “Right back at you, Reyes.”


End file.
